One day I went to a small clothes shop. Approaching one of my hangers, he gives:
- Such a feeling that it was all sewn by the stubborn clown sadist daltonic sick in the head.
It was at this moment that the worker approached from behind to hang the goods and with a look in which the hatred of the enemy of all mankind was read, she issued (not in a raised tone):
He is not a Daltonist.